Natasha blogging
Here is that:
Hello, all of you. I’m Mark Foxwell, and I was Natasha’s partner and care provider from the month I met her 16 years ago until this October when she died at Memorial Hospital here in Santa Rosa. Many of you were able to come to Natasha’s funeral and were there for her or thinking of her in her last days; I am sure first of all she would want me to thank you for that. The last years of her life she was both anxious and yet thrilled and fulfilfilled by the chance to work with so many of you, and the hope of meeting you all. In the months just before I had to take her to the hospital she was determined to shephard in another Legislative Forum, and now here you all are again. So she would thank you all for that. I met Natasha in a community college class at Pasadena City College in 1989. There was this very cute young lady in a wheelchair behind me in class, who looked fascinated. She caused people to notice her. She more than the impression she made, and she was in control of it. Everything she ever came near got twisted a bit out of whack from everyday reality. She had the power of finding names for things, names that were apt and made the thing more real. Her strength had a foundation in love but tempered in adversity, as she had to struggle so often. But she was never bitter; she believed in working herself and those around her to near exhaustion but also in having fun. Being close to her was demanding, but also very rewarding. She lived a life many ordinary people would envy, hanging out with rock stars when she was young, but she dreamed of things ordinary people take for granted, like a job, marriage, and a home of her own. Living with her I quickly came to suspect she was just magic. All I can say for sure is this--Natasha Littletree lived a life that was worth living, and at least the 16 years I spent with her were years I lived a worthy life too. No matter what else I might ever do, I will always be proud of the time we spent together, and wish we had more time with her. The one thing she wanted the most was to be remembered--”I live in the hope of becoming a memory” was a phrase she repeated often. On her behalf I am grateful to you all for remembering her today.
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